


Stormcast into Partnership

by Merfilly



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Age Difference, Developing Relationship, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-03-05 16:33:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18832426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: It was just meant to be a small break for Oldive, shepherded to the Southern Continent by Journeyman Sebell. Just a way to allow him to help with processing the first round of numbweed for the year before summer sets in. Just a way to meet the young healer down there he'd heard of.A small break indeed...





	Stormcast into Partnership

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenityabrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenityabrin/gifts).



> Dear serenityabrin, I can only hope this meets with your approval for the wonderful entertainment you have brought me in the past. 
> 
> I have elected to have a bit of distance between the affairs of the two Halls, as the Harper Hall Trilogy really doesn't show a lot of interaction between them, despite sharing facilities. Apologies if this is jarring to any readers.

"It's beautiful scenery at least," Oldive said, sitting with his back to a tree, mindful of the way he rested there so as not to put pressure on the spinal column nearest to his shoulder and its malformation. Leaning on the left scapula was safer, if not as balanced.

He looked down at the current deformity causing issues, where his leg was noticeably out of alignment due to a fracture of the tibia. At least it did not appear or feel like the fibula had broken, but it was still both a distressing injury and one he could not easily treat.

At least his health was such that he did not think he was at risk for the death that some who broke their lower limbs fell prey to. Oldive's studies had led him to believe those were caused by malformed blood cells passing through narrow passages. Why such strokes happened in the cases of broken legs among sedentary people was a matter lost in the annals of time.

"Master, are you with me?" the journeyman at his side, young Sebell, Robinton's own adjutant, asked him, making him focus.

That brought pain. Escaping inside his mind had let the pain fade back, to the annoyance that his misshapen back and shoulder were.

"Master?"

The earnest worry dragged Oldive's gaze from his leg back to Sebell's face, and the MasterHealer forced a smile for the young man.

"It is not as dire as it could be," Oldive told the man. "A splint can be made. If we filter the water, salty as it is, through several layers of cloth and sand, it can be used to effectively clean the gashes we both have. And the break is not that severe. It hasn't torn the skin, only swollen the leg and made it inconvenient to stand upon."

"Inconvenient!?"

The explosion of the word made Oldive actually realize that his companion on this trip was fully, truly distressed on levels not fully proportionate to the situation. "Sebell, please find your calm and rational thinking. Once your young queen returns, we have a means of messaging for aid. The storm was not your fault; I believe I have heard young Menolly warn that no matter the time of the year, squalls can and will change the most experienced sailor's plans.

"I can guide you through cleaning our scrapes, through making the splints and padding it properly to immobilize my leg. This is not a helpless situation," the MasterHealer finished.

Sebell dropped his eyes, some of that shyness returning in the moment, the one that had faded under Robinton's guidance into his adulthood. "I just… I told you I'd see you to the harvest, to meet Holder Toric's sister, the Healer, and now… I have no idea where we are, or how to convey that to the Hall so the MasterHarper can ask assistance for us!

"And you're hurt, which is worst of all."

Oldive snorted at him. "Hardly. Worst would have been you getting injured. I am no survivalist, but I know you young Harpers know how to live from the land on your journeys. And you are the one with the fire-lizard, which means communication is still your forte."

"It does not change that I do not know where we are," Sebell said, but he was calming under Oldive's masterful calm in the situation.

"First things first, Journeyman. Let us see to setting my leg. Bring the tatters of the sail to me to cut for lining and strapping, then go and see what you can find that is of a straight nature for us to use as splints." Oldive found his kit, shifting it on the straps that bound it to him until he could open it and get the heavy shears out.

How thankful was he that it was his habit to wear the kit when he was traveling, having long ago taken into account his spinal difficulties to make a harness that held it close without adding to his shoulder's discomfort. It meant that in all the excitement and tossing about that it had remained with him. All of the powders and compounds were a lost cause, but he had his tools.

Once he had the canvas, a piece of it was cut to lay said tools out on, so that they could fully dry. The medicines would be better burned, rather than left where they could be ingested, even as diluted by soaking as they had grown. He set those to the side, and set about readying everything for Sebell to set his leg properly for him.

Attitude, Oldive knew, was key to good healing. If he could keep the Harper calm, and if he could keep his optimism whole, all would go well. This was his guiding philosophy in life, handed out to all that would hold faith with him in his methods of healing.

Sebell came back and placed pieces of their own dinghy there, plus a few pieces of wood. He then looked at Oldive directly, making eye contact with only a moment of hesitation.

"I want to apologize, Master, for losing my calm earlier. I should have kept my head better."

"It's understandable, Sebell. After all, it's not every sevenday that sees you get shipwrecked with a Master of a Craft."

Sebell laughed. "No, apparently that is Menolly's task." Oldive shared in the laughter, finding that it did mitigate the pain. Some truth to an Ancient adage, about laughter being the best medicine? He pushed the thought aside.

"And now you begin your apprenticeship in healing," he said. "Let us begin the necessary task. Please ignore the hissing and exclamations; no being is meant to endure pain silently."

"Yes, Master," Sebell said. "I remember when Brudegan cracked his arm in our last year as apprentices."

"Ahh yes. I have used that as a cautionary tale since, for the penalties of horseplay in the Hall," Oldive told him before he took his time to walk Sebell through the process of setting and splinting his leg.

+++

Sebell was beginning to worry that his Kimi had been injured or actually too disoriented by the squall to find him by the time he rigged a shelter for the MasterHealer so he could forage for food. Fortunately, this was the Southern Continent and food was never too scarce. He knew he had to think more positively than that, but he was also not thinking as rationally as he might have had he been stranded with a fellow Harper or a hearty soul being brought south to help Toric fill his needed tradesmen positions.

This was Master Oldive. This was the man that was, at every turn, proving he had the health of Pern in the front of his mind. The MasterHealer had pioneered some revolutionary tactics, and was slowly turning aside the prejudice against surgery so that simple things did not kill so many people. He was a man that listened and shared techniques that were proven, so that Holds far and wide had good care.

Worse, it was one of the few people that had ever really distracted Sebell in his quest to become the perfect Harper. From his first encounters with the straightforward but kind man, Sebell had been curious about him. Coming from an insular people, Sebell had rarely seen someone who gave so much to others with no reward in sight.

As he got older, the curiosity gave way to admiration, to a need to emulate him as much as possible, learning to cloak necessary actions in kindness… backed by ruthless logic and fact. And, to his hopeless chagrin, he'd developed something of an infatuation, one that had only grown and matured as Sebell had.

Somehow, he had to keep the MasterHealer dry, fed, and safe until Kimi came back or maybe Beauty came searching for them. He could do this. He had to. Pern needed Oldive… and he could not allow himself to fail the man at all.

+++

Oldive had watched Sebell bring the admittedly broken boat onto the beach, tirelessly pulling it far enough to be beyond the tide-line, with a little dismay at the slender young man having to work that hard.

Then he'd seen a tunnel snake boldly pop up out of the sand, prompting him to throw a handy rock at it and understood more. Something solid between his body and the sands would help Sebell to know he was safe when the young man went looking for food. A few leafy branches set up and lashed with remnants of rigging and sail had made for the shade needed, and allowed Oldive to start filtering the pail of sea water through layers of cloth and sand for cleaning their abrasions later.

His leg was steadily throbbing, reminding him that medicine was a blessing so many took for granted.

Of course the cap of the numbweed jar had come loose, allowing it to become just as tainted with sea water and detritus as the rest of his first response medicines were.

He closed his eyes, focusing his mind without the distraction of the sun glinting on water and white sands. The mind was the principle part of all self-care, Oldive knew. To believe in health, to logically tackle wholeness, that was the key to keeping oneself at their best.

Just as he had never allowed his malformed shoulder and back to slow him, adapting common things and motions to suit his own needs, he would not let this temporary inconvenience tear down his concept of self. Sebell was a competent Harper, had grown up in a family of self-reliant folk from all his friend Robinton had shared. The journeyman had been handling discreet visits to the Southern Continent for some time now, and would know enough to get them by until the little golden queen came back to them.

He opened his eyes then, that resolve solidly in place, to trust in Sebell's knowledge, and he set himself back to filtering the water for cleaning. It would still be undrinkable, but there would not be sediment to irritate the scrapes and abrasions further. More importantly, it was something that Oldive could do to better their situation.

+++

The day had been very tiring. Sebell knew that as clearly as he knew all of his chords and his name.

It was, in his own way of thinking, no excuse for the fact he'd drifted off mid-word, the fire carefully set in a depression lined by the rocks he had found. They had drinking water that Sebell had gathered from a spring none too far away. There had been spiderclaws eaten, fresh fruit that was only slightly under-ripe, and some tubers that had been sharper to taste than the ones both he and Master Oldive had thought they were related to.

The pair had been sitting side by side, midship in the broken vessel, and that was the true reason Sebell was chagrined to find himself coming back around. His head was on Oldive's shoulder, the straight one, and the man had not moved it seemed.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't be. I was considering just propping my head against yours, to be honest, as I know attempting to move is going to make the leg hurt again." Oldive turned his face toward Sebell as the younger man sat more fully up.

"I've got enough light to find that fellis tree again?" Sebell offered.

"Hmm, no. Because I have been to Nerat and I know that this twilight we have will soon be pitch black beyond the reach of the fire. A fire that should be banked, if we are to have coals come the morning," Oldive said.

Sebell had to smile at that. "I thought you said you didn't have wilderness skill?"

Oldive laughed at him. "My dear journeyman, that is no wilderness skill. That is a desperate healer in training trying to make certain we could quickly make klah on exam days at the night hearth," he said with amusement still in his voice.

Sebell wished that tone didn't make the man seem far more approachable, did not add to the feelings of attraction he had.

"I think we've pulled that trick before too, but with late practices for the conclaves and larger Gathers. Annoys Abuna, who usually keeps charge of that, as if we are impugning her ability to provide us the elixir we need to handle the day classes," Sebell admitted.

He then moved to where he could better survey where they were camped for the moment, and proceeded to use the shading leaves to make something of a pallet. Once done, he looked at Oldive.

"Up, tree, bed?" he suggested, and Oldive grimaced slightly but nodded. Sebell scooped the man up as carefully as he could, with Oldive doing the best he could to manage the broken leg. It did not take long to manage necessary functions and get back to the wreck, where Sebell settled Oldive down first, before banking the fire properly for the night to make coals to cook breakfast on.

He wasn’t certain exactly when, once he’d laid down beside the healer, he managed to fall asleep, as the nearness of another person, for the first time in Sebell’s life, proved to be a distraction from sleep.

+++

Oldive felt stiff, his leg was throbbing, his shoulder and back were reminding him that leaves were no substitute for a properly stuffed mattress, and… there was a warmth along his side that was completely unfamiliar to him.

He turned his head just enough to look, to process that Sebell had moved closer in the night. Oldive was not accustomed to sharing his personal space at all, not since his earliest days. He stole the moment to just study the features of his companion, finding the lines aesthetically pleasing, soft in ways that drew the mind to ideas that he’d long since stopped pursuing.

No one had ever wanted to pursue a cripple in his youth, and Oldive had scorned those who sought him out after he made swift progress as a healer. He would be no trophy or leg up to those seeking him for prestige purposes.

Perhaps it was the tropical climate or the concept of being stranded so far from societal norms that was causing him to think like this. Yet Oldive continued to take advantage of Sebell’s slumber to appreciate the look of his face, relaxed and gentle in its repose. It was a better focus than the pain, and helped him remain still as the morning light grew.

Such peace was shattered rather abruptly as Kimi, the young queen, suddenly erupted in the air with a piteous creel toward her human friend that brought Sebell up and sitting upright before consciousness truly dawned. Oldive had to smile at that, even as he used the added room to carefully lever himself up to a sitting position.

"Your friend has returned, it seems," he said in a cheery voice, rather than let the pain of the leg’s motion distract him.

"Now if we can make it clear to her where we -- OH!"

Oldive looked up at the startled exclamation as none other than bronze Lioth emerged from _between_. He smiled as the dragon winged down, landing at some distance, while Sebell jumped up and ran over to the dragon.

"Weyrleader N’ton!" Sebell said, "And Lioth! We are most relieved to see you, as the storm blew up fierce and set us far off course."

Oldive wondered if the dragonrider was buying that, given where they were being rescued from, but he applauded Sebell in his mind for trying to cover the illicit journey.

"You set both Halls on their ears, Journeyman Sebell, when your Kimi showed up all alone and appealing to any and all firelizards in the vicinity!" N’ton called back before he dismounted and came to grip Sebell’s shoulder. Oldive could see clearly that the young man was already at ease with the dragonrider, a good show to Sebell’s confidence in his position as the Harper’s personal journeyman.

"I assure you I did not mean to, but I am glad Kimi was able to lead you back to us," Sebell said. "As you see, the MasterHealer has broken his leg, and the boat has broken its stern."

"Possibly in one and the same motion, given the stern stuff a healer must be made of?" N’ton teased lightly as he took in the wrapped and splinted leg. "MasterHealer Oldive, we of the weyrs normally avoid the cold of _between_ on any injury, or swaddle the patient if there is no choice."

Oldive looked up at the dragonrider once he’d come close, considering that. "Swaddling is a wise precaution, given the propensity for infection and blood ailments in leg breaks."

N’ton nodded, and went back to the dragon, undoing a bundle on the back of the bronze. Sebell crouched beside Oldive, having come back with the rider.

"Next Fall will take care of the traces of our presence," he said, while Kimi rode his shoulder, tail tightly coiled around the harper’s throat. "N’ton is a discreet man," he added.

"I surmised as such," Oldive said, before N’ton arrived back, heavy wher leathers bundled in a fur.

"Let’s get you both dressed and then that leg wrapped well," N’ton said cheerfully, setting to the task as if he were not the Weyrleader of Pern’s eldest Weyr.

Oldive found himself appreciating the attitude, and did all he could to help prep for the flight.

+++

The small adventure was one that Sebell could have done without, yet it had given him a small measure of the MasterHealer he’d never expected to have. He’d watched Oldive handle the storm with aplomb, bailing until the swell that had thrown him, despite a lash line, hard enough to break the leg.

Sebell could only admire how calm Oldive had remained, how he had handled himself despite his injury. It only stoked all the other feelings, feelings Sebell was having a harder time ignoring now. There was something in his unconscious observations that had —

— that had triggered a recognition.

Sebell felt his pulse quicken, and he had to force himself to weigh the points his mind had stumbled over, to be certain this was not wishful thinking. It seemed to him that Oldive was not accustomed to company outside of his own kind, outside of those he taught and mentored and oversaw to care for Pern's people.

If that were the case, than Sebell should not ignore his own drive to be a part of the man's orbit. He should make the effort to know Oldive better, and, perhaps, it would lead to something more for them both in the long run.

+++

Oldive looked up at the polite rap on the frame of his open door to see Journeyman Sebell there. He smiled and made a beckoning motion, before indicating the other chair.

"Forgive me if I don't rise," he said with amusement in his voice.

"How is your leg, Master?" Sebell asked him, taking the offered chair.

"Quite fair, actually. We've got a proper plaster on it now, and I have been fitted to my crutches." Those did offer him some discomfort, as his twisted back and shoulder made the one on that side painful, but Oldive was managing. "Soon enough I can have a weight bearing plaster on it and then my mobility will be fine."

Sebell frowned at him, and Oldive thought that answer bothered the young man.

"Aren't your quarters on a mid-level?" Sebell asked.

"I have had a bed moved here, for convenience and safety alike," Oldive said, even as the apparent concern did… something? What was that? Why did such a thing matter, when he'd been shrugging off offers to take some of his duties or to be more assisting?

Sebell's posture relaxed some at that. "I am relieved to know that, Master." He then turned a little in the chair, fingers unconsciously tapping at the arm rests. "I am to be in the Hall for a few weeks, apparently, as I have specialized training. And I was wondering, Master, if it might be possible for me to stop by, from time to time, to maybe better know you?"

The words had not been rushed. They were as measured as any tune that passed the lips of a Harper. They might even have been rehearsed, for how smoothly the young man said them. Oldive had no idea why Sebell would wish to do such a thing… the rehearsal part… let alone waste time in the company of an older man in a different Craft.

The request, though, sang with sincerity, and Oldive found it a welcome one, as he had come to admire the young man in their brief adventure to the Southern Continent, and the abrupt departure from their itinerary once the storm hit. It was even a professional thing to do —

— and that maneuvered the last piece into place, Oldive thought. Sebell was, by all accounts, the likely successor to the MasterHarper's role. Oldive was younger than his counterpart, and it was rare for a Master of a Craft to step down before age or illness made it needed.

"It would be good, I believe, to know one another better, Journeyman Sebell," Oldive said neutrally, and broke off the rest of it as there was a growing frown on the other man's face now. In the next moment, Sebell shifted, turning and moving forward to the edge of the chair.

"Please. This is not about inter-Craft alliances, or futures that may or may not require a solid working camaraderie between us. I genuinely would like to know who you are, outside of being Pern's beloved MasterHealer," Sebell told him earnestly. "If that is bothersome to you, say so. But do not mistake my intent for that of duty."

Oldive sat back in his chair, letting the custom pillow there support him more comfortably as he met the young man's eyes, seeing a truth there that defied his experience with the world.

"Forgive me, Sebell. I am not accustomed to being sought out for more than my skill or my rank," he said to try and soothe the potentially injured feelings.

At that, Sebell shook his head vigorously. "Which is a shame, Master. Your company on the boat, your aplomb at handling the crisis, all of it entices me to learn more of who you are."

"Entices?"

Oldive had lived close to the harpers for much of his life. He knew words were their forte, and that every harper was trained to use them with care. Entice, as the choice there, was reflective of something.

The young man flushed ever so slightly, dropping his gaze for a moment. It was that he was flustered, even for just a few heartbeats, that made Oldive's own reaction stronger, made him recall that warmth lying beside him, the softness of Sebell's features in repose.

"Oh," escaped him before he'd realized there was a sound to be made on his last breath leaving his lungs.

Oldive met Sebell's gaze as the younger man steeled his resolve, and wet his lips with a quick dart of his tongue.

"I recognize that you are my elder and of a much higher rank, but the journey south made me contemplate that maybe, possibly, it would be feasible to explore personal relations without it tying into duty."

"I haven't considered such things in many years, Sebell," Oldive said with honesty. "Most companions seek more perfection of form than I offer. And those that seek once rank is made are not worth consideration," he added. "I do not think a man as well-favored as you are — "

"Please," Sebell said, cutting that off with a quick, quiet word and raise of his hand. "Grant me the courtesy of being trained enough in how to think to understand what I am seeking."

Oldive had to incline his head then. "You are right. And I apologize for seeking to dissuade you so abruptly, but I felt it the cautious and right thing to do." He then drew in a breath. "I will not be taking my meals in the dining hall with my healers while it is so difficult to maneuver the halls.

"Perhaps, Sebell, if you are free during those periods, you would join me from time to time?" he offered.

Sebell was as bright as the sun when true joy lit his smiles, Oldive decided in the next moment.

"Gladly… Oldive."

The familiar tone wrapping around his name sent shivers through Oldive, before the sound of people in the halls indicated a change of hours and classes. That led to parting… and to the MasterHealer contemplating his next steps.

+++

The meals weren't every day, and never more than once in a day. Sebell was not going to be smothering, even as the Northern autumn turned toward winter, and journeying mostly ceased save for requests that had to be honored for Gathers in the more temperate holds.

His own Master had said nothing over the preoccupation with courting someone, but Sebell harbored no illusions on if Robinton knew. There was no way the man did not, even as frequently as he was about Pern, a-dragonback. Sebell knew that if it had concerned his Master, words would have already been dropped, but they had not been.

Menolly was taking on more and more of the Hall's errands for the MasterHarper. Sebell thought that was, in a way, grace on his chosen personal activities, as it left him more time to secure Oldive's affections.

By unspoken but mutual wishes, Sebell and Oldive had limited their interactions to the privacy of those shared meals, growing in knowledge of one another, seeing if the attraction was more than physical.

Sebell was hopelessly aware it was by the fourth time he'd met for a late supper, and lost the thread of all of his worries of the day listening to Oldive talk to him about the intricacies of handling a continent-wide craft from one central Hall. In that, the healers and the harpers were aligned. So many other Crafts were in the business of making products, but these two Halls' products were the women and men they trained with knowledge.

This day, Sebell appeared at Oldive's office door and was surprised to see one of the other healers there. Bevly, he recognized after a moment of trying to place which of the redheads it was, turned to notice him, smiled, then returned to her careful cutting away of the cast Oldive wore. Sebell settled their lunch tray on the desk, seeing it had already been cleared for them.

"Now, MasterHealer, do I need to remind you to go easy, build the muscle back slowly, and avoid strenuous activity until your body adapts again?"

Oldive chuckled brightly at that. "No, my friend. And if I forget, I am certain Sebell will remind me, now you've aired the advice in his hearing," he said, so calmly and casually acknowledging Sebell's right to do so to another person that Sebell's breath caught in his throat.

They were at this point already?

Bevly glanced back, then nodded once. "A good man to keep after you, Master Oldive." She removed the detritus of the cast into a bin for the refuse pile, put all of her tools away, and then took her leave with a smile at Sebell.

Oldive gingerly moved off the high counter that served as an exam bed and put his weight gingerly on the leg. Sebell unconsciously moved closer… and Oldive allowed him to be a steadying brace as he pushed his foot flat against the floor.

"Well, I suppose I can now take up residence in my quarters and resume eating in the dining hall," Oldive said with a wan smile. "Or, at least, attempt to make it to the dining hall in time for meals with you?"

That needed an answer, and Sebell rapidly made himself weigh it and decide.

"If it will not cause you any issues, Oldive, I do think I would like that plan."

Sebell had, in his own way, known that they would come to a point, as they grew more interested in one another, where others would know. He just had not really considered it, until now, as he —

"You speak of me to your healers?"

Oldive nodded and moved toward his chair. "I thought it best that they not be blind-sided, should we find our relationship evolving further, Sebell." He then frowned, and tipped his head. "Have you not said anything?"

"I did not want to cause you issues, so while some know I am talking with a person, they do not know which person it might be. Leading to, as I am sure you know, some interesting conjectures," Sebell admitted.

"And wagering, no doubt." Oldive nodded. "You had your reasons, logical ones, and I mine, for the way we tackled it. But now… do you wish a public presence for us at this stage?"

Sebell took his own seat once Oldive had settled. "Yes! It was only ever caution for your sake, for appearances, that I kept who it is making me compose such lyrics as I have been to myself!"

That brought a laugh out of the elder man, before he reached for his portion of the meal. "Not all tunings can be about world-shaking events. If I inspire softer words, then let me be honored to be seen at your side for them," he said, casually affirming his intention to be Sebell's partner at this point.

Sebell allowed himself to begin eating, even as he let that soak into his skin, to hear it, to know it, that his pursuit of the man was coming to a point that was like a dream to him. "It is I, Oldive, who will have the honor, when we debut our duet," he said with a smile.

They lapsed into companionable silence for the meal, the future now written with possibilities, potential conflicts, and, in time, a melody of togetherness.

+++

Oldive finished the last of his spiced wine, and glanced at his companion. Sebell's eyes were doing the darting thing as he continued to listen to the masters and senior journeymen around him discussing the plans for Turn's End. Oldive loved to see that quick mind at work, even as Sebell rarely offered his own input in these mixed gatherings, held after the apprentices had gone to their beds.

"It is late, my fellow craftsmen," he said, his rich voice falling in a momentary silence. "And the day begins early even if the sun fails to rise with us."

Sebell straightened and moved to stand, still so obviously bemused by how accepting many of the masters of both Crafts had been of their partnership. Oldive weighed the moment, and decided it felt right.

"Join me?"

It was as calculated as a Harper might use their words, but Oldive had deemed it worthwhile to show, in front of those who led both Halls, just how fully committed to this relationship he'd become.

Sebell, with grace and dignity, inclined his head. "Yes, Oldive. I will."

The dignity held even as the startled but pleased groups of harpers and healers cheered and offered ribald commentary, calling for wine, though a smile creased both their lips.

"That's setting a wher among the wherries, isn't it, Oldive?" Sebell asked once they were out of the dining hall.

"Best they know now. And… I think I am ready to explore more of who we are, before the turn comes to an end, so we start the new one knowing what we wish to be?"

Sebell licked his lips at that, before he darted in to claim a quick, gentle kiss, something that had become the one token of affection they shared. "I know where I wish to be, and how. Let's go find the tune of it, yes?"

Together, they ascended to the apartment Oldive had, to do just that.


End file.
